NEVER FORGOTTEN: Bill Biggart's Final Act of Bravery on 9/11 649
September 11, 2001, will forever be etched in history as one of the darkest days the world has ever witnessed. Among the chaos and heartbreak, there were countless heroes who risked their lives to document the events, to bear witness to the unimaginable, and to ensure the truth of that day would never be forgotten. One such hero was Bill Biggart, a photojournalist whose dedication to capturing history cost him his life.
At 10:28:24 a.m. on 9/11, Bill Biggart stood at Ground Zero, capturing the devastation as the North Tower of the World Trade Center began to collapse. His camera clicked in the face of chaos, as the world around him crumbled into dust. Bill was no stranger to the dangers of his profession, but this was different. This was a tragedy of such magnitude that even the bravest photographers would hesitate. Yet, Bill stood his ground.
His final image was a testament to the kind of courage that defines true journalism—the willingness to document the hardest truths, to face the danger head-on, and to keep capturing the story even when your own life is at risk. Moments after taking his final photograph, Bill was caught in the collapse of the North Tower. The world would lose a photographer, but Bill’s images would immortalize the tragedy forever.
Four days later, Bill’s body was found alongside his press credentials, three cameras, and six rolls of film. His death was confirmed, but his dedication to the truth remained unwavering. However, among the debris, one small piece of equipment survived: a compact flash card. That card contained nearly 150 photographs, each one a snapshot of history in the making. Each image was a silent witness to the events of that day, captured by a man who knew the importance of bearing witness to history, no matter the cost.
Bill’s photographs, saved by sheer luck, have become a lasting testament to his bravery and commitment. They show the human side of the tragedy, the dust-filled air, the chaos, the fear, and the courage of those who refused to stand down. The images taken by Bill on 9/11 are not just photographs; they are time capsules, carrying the weight of the world’s sorrow and resilience. They show us not only the destruction but the spirit of those who lived through it.
While many of us may never know the exact details of Bill’s final moments, the photographs he left behind tell a story of profound bravery. The pictures capture not just the towers falling, but the humanity behind the events—the firefighters, the first responders, the ordinary people who became heroes in the blink of an eye. Bill’s work reminds us that, even in the face of darkness, there are those who choose to keep their eyes open and their cameras clicking, determined to record the truth for the world to see.
In the years following his death, Bill Biggart’s legacy has continued to live on through his work. His photographs have been featured in news outlets around the world, becoming symbols of resilience, of truth in the face of tragedy. The compact flash card that survived the collapse has become a symbol of Bill’s indomitable spirit—a reminder that even when everything seems lost, there are pieces of the past that refuse to be forgotten.
Bill Biggart’s death serves as a stark reminder of the risks that journalists and photojournalists take every day to tell the stories that need to be told. It’s easy to forget the sacrifices that go into capturing history, especially when it’s the kind of history no one wants to witness. But Bill’s story, along with the photographs he left behind, shows us the importance of bearing witness, of showing the truth, even in the most terrifying of moments.
Bill Biggart’s final act was one of quiet bravery, standing against the tide of danger, making sure that the story of 9/11 would not be forgotten. His legacy reminds us that journalism, at its core, is about truth, even when it’s difficult, and even when it costs everything.
A Love That Finds Its Way: The Story of Us and Our Rescue Journey 712
I glance down at my phone and see “Husband” calling. My heart skips a beat, my pulse quickens. It’s not typical for us to call each other — we usually text throughout the day, checking in and chatting. If he’s calling, something must be wrong, especially since we rarely call when he's at work or school unless there’s an emergency. There's no missed notification, no prior messages to explain the call. My mind races, and my heart bursts with worry.
I answer the phone immediately:
Me: Babe, are you okay?
Him: Listen, I’ve only got 30 seconds. Are you listening?
Me: I hear you, go ahead!!
Him: I stand in front of a box with abandoned kittens. One of them didn’t make it, but two are still alive. I’m supposed to be welding, but I’ll figure out a way to syringe-feed them until I can get them home. Can you pack whatever they need before I come back?
Me: ... omg yes!!
Him: I gotta go, I just wanna make sure they stay warm in my jacket.
He hangs up, and I sit there, stunned, torn between wanting to laugh and cry.
As I sit there, thinking back on all the times people have told me I was crazy for helping animals the way I do, I realize something they don’t: the animals find me. And now, I've met a man — a man who animals also find. A man who, at that moment, was standing at work with two abandoned kittens tucked into his jacket, prioritizing their warmth and survival over everything else.
I think back to when we first met, how I knew he was something special. I never imagined I’d find a partner who shared my love for animals so deeply. But here he was, a man willing to sacrifice his own comfort to make sure these two tiny lives had a chance at survival. He removed his jacket to create warmth for them, just as I would have. It’s in moments like this that I realize just how perfectly we fit together — our hearts both open to helping others, to giving our time and energy to the creatures that need it the most.
Since we’ve been married, we’ve opened our hearts and home to more than 300 kittens, cats, and dogs. They come to us from all walks of life, finding their way to our door, needing love, care, and a safe place to land. It hasn’t been easy — the sleepless nights, the endless feedings, the emotional toll of seeing animals in need. But every time we take in a new one, it feels like we’re doing exactly what we’re meant to do. We’ve fostered more than we ever thought we could, giving them hope, helping them heal, and eventually sending them off to their forever homes. And it’s not just us helping them; they’ve changed us in ways we never expected.
As I pack the supplies for the kittens — bottles, blankets, warm towels — I feel that familiar rush of love and excitement. We don’t do this for accolades or recognition. We do it because it's what we’re called to do. We do it because when you open your heart to help others, those in need will always find you. They always know where to go, and we’re ready to help.
Our home is filled with the sounds of purring kittens and barking puppies. It’s filled with the warmth of knowing we’re doing the right thing, the best thing. As I think of my husband, taking care of those two tiny lives, my heart swells with pride. Not only is he the love of my life, but he’s also a man whose compassion for all living creatures mirrors my own. Together, we’re building something beautiful — a life dedicated to love, kindness, and animals.
Let me remind you: what is meant to find you, will always find you. And sometimes, that means finding a partner who shares your deepest values, a partner who will stand with you in the face of a cold, hard world and help those who can’t help themselves. That’s the kind of love that lasts. 🥹🤍
This is the life we’ve chosen — one filled with purpose, filled with love, and filled with the little souls who need us most. The animals that find us aren’t just saved; they’re a reminder that in this life, the best things are always the unexpected gifts that find their way to your door.
